Crossing Boundaries
by Texmex007
Summary: Dr.Who.Sherlock Holmes.Supernatural.Marvel's Avengers.All collide in an epic twist that starts w/the Winchester Bros involvement w/opening a Devil's Gate&releasing Hell on Earth&Ghost Rider reports it to SHIELD.Follow as the Dr. searches for Clara&finds an old friend,Holmes tracks down Moriarty,the Brothers look for Lilith&the Avengers try to protect Earth.Rated T&has pairings :)
1. Chapter 1

Crossing Bounderies

By Texmex007

**Author's note: this whole idea popped out of my head like a firecracker, so bear with me. This multi-crossover is definitely my first, but I will make everything fit to the best of my abilities. And yes, there will be some pairings, for all you Johnlock, stony, hulkeye, etcetera pairings. Before I continue, I must say, I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Who, Supernatural, nor the Avengers. Thanks- and review! **

** Wyoming, USA; An old cowboy cemetery…**

"Are you _sure _that person you see there is _really 100% _Sam?" sneered Azazel as he held the Colt in his hand, raising eyelevel to Dean. Through the dense smog of demons that were escaping from Hell, Dean looked back at his brother, remembering the look on his face when he shot that Jake guy repeatedly in the back and front, how cold his eyes were as he listened to Jake beg.

Before he could answer, his eyes widened at the sight of his father escaping from Hell's Gate and grabbing Azazel from behind. He knew his father couldn't hold the demon off for too long, so he leaped up and quickly grabbed the Colt, cocking the hammer back and pointing it dead center into the demon's heart.

"Now Dean," said Azazel, "there's no reason for this-"

Dean spat out the blood in his mouth as he held the Colt tighter in his hand. _One last bullet_ he thought, _better make this one count._

_ "_Oh yeah there is," said Dean, "this one's for Dad."

A resonating _bang_ spread throughout the small cemetery as the brothers, Bobby, and Ellen watched a yellow glow spread through the demon's body. Pretty soon, Azazel disintegrated into nothing. It was over. Azazel was dead.

"Prepare yourselves boys," said Bobby as he turned their attention to the quickly evaporating clouds of demons, "this war ain't over yet."

**Moments later in the Alleyways of London, England…**

A shadowy figure of a man in a trench coat scurried down the dark alleyways that spread throughout the city like veins. The sound of a little girl crying behind a dumpster stopped him in his tracks. He cautiously walked up to the blonde haired girl who was wiping her tears away with her white dress.

"Are you lost?" asked the man, as he croutched down to get a better look at her. Her blonde bangs hid her eyes as she nodded.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"My mommy says I mustn't talk to strangers." replied the girl.

"Well, she's right," said the man with a smile, "my name is Professor Moriarty. Now, may I have your name?"

"Lilith." said the girl, looking up at the man. Her eyes glowed white in the streetlight.

"Gracious, child," exclaimed the man, "are you blind?"

The little girl was quiet for a moment, "Yes."

"Take my hand," said the man, "we are no longer strangers. I'll help you."

"Okay…" whispered the girl as she hid a sinister smile. The minute she took his hand, Moriarty started to writhe in excruciating pain. Lilith giggled as she mentally stepped into his body and took over his conscience. Moriarty and Lilith cried out in unison into the night,

"let's play!"

Back at the Hall's residence, their nanny Clara Oswald crept out of the closet, unnerved and scared out of her mind. That was certainly _not _Emily. She couldn't remember how Emily had changed so drastically-one minute they were outside playing, then all Clara could remember was hearing Emily talk to someone she couldn't see and watching Emily's eyes glow pale white. She screamed the only word that she could think of.

_HELP_

**Days later in Manhattan, New York City…**

"STEVE, THAT WAS THE THIRD TOASTER THIS WEEK!" yelled the local billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark as he shook a heavily dented toaster around the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry Tony" whimpered a tall blonde with a pout on his face, "I didn't mean to-I was staring into the slits, and it was so fascinating, and…and…"

One look into Steve's baby blues and Tony sighed. He couldn't punish the poor soldier over something as trivial as a dinged up toaster. He could always buy another one.

"I forgive you Steve," sighed Tony, "but you better apologize to Thor as well-those _were _his Poptarts in there."

Steve gazed down at the floor like a scolded puppy, "Thor, I'm sorry."

"ALL IS FORGIVEN MY SHIELD WEILDING FRIEND!" boomed Thor, slapping Steve on the back. Steve winced. Natasha briskly entered the kitchen with an annoyed look on her face.

_well this can't be good_ thought Tony.

"Conference room. Now." and just like that, Natasha was gone just a quickly as she had entered. The three men looked at each other with questioning looks.

It had taken him three days to make it to Manhattan, and was he angry. Johnny Blaze had never experienced such an onslaught of demonic souls that had recently plagued the country, and being summoned to a conference meeting wasn't really on his schedule- not like anyone cared. He rolled his eyes as he opened the door and entered the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, (or simply known as S.H.I.E.L.D), conference room and stood next to a tall dark man with an eye patch on.

"Director Fury." said Johnny, as they shook hands.

"Blaze," said Director Fury, "I hear you have interesting news for us."

Blaze nodded and looked around at the Avengers that surrounded him,

"Tony Stark, Steve Rogers," he addressed the brunette and blonde,

"Clint Barton, Dr. Bruce Banner," the dark haired man and the dirty blonde,

"Thor Odinson," Johnny couldn't help but think how he was supposed to be a god. Johnny had always believed in just one.

"Natasha Romanoff." Johnny tried to look at the redheaded woman, but he could feel Zarathos-his Ghost Rider self- feel riled up by her face. He clutched at his sides painfully as he looked away.

"Is something wrong?" demanded Fury as he motioned to steady Johnny.

"I'm fine," said Johnny, "I just can't look at her-it's a Ghost Rider thing."

Natasha's poker face prevented the rest of the Avengers from asking if she was ok. She couldn't risk letting her true feelings show. Not now. So much for wiping the red out of her ledger…

_She's got a lot of blood on her hands_ he thought as moved to a computer and plugged in a flash drive he had in his leather jacket. Two images appeared on the screen above two separate paragraphs.

"I'm sure you guys have been having such a fun time these past three days," said Johnny sarcastically, "because I know I have. I've been made aware from the Boss upstairs of a huge influx of demonic forces that have escaped from Hell, and they've been giving me a real pain in the neck. I know that demonology isn't really in any of your fields of experience, so let me enlighten you a bit."

Johnny pulled up a picture of what seemed to be an old cemetery, "this is an old cowboy cemetery, located in Wyoming." he clicked the 'next' button, which flashed a picture of a HUGE mausoleum, "This, Avengers, is a Devil's Gate-a.k.a a doorway to Hell itself," he paused, "any questions?"

The team remained silent. "Moving on," sighed Johnny as he clicked on another tab, pulling up images of two males, "meet Sam and Dean Winchester, your average, run-of-the-mill brothers, who, oh yeah" he continued with a smirk on his face, "are like, experts at lock picking, computer hacking, disguised conning, car jacking, gun and weapon wielding…" he paused, "and not to mention they're also experts at hunting down and destroying anything and everything supernatural."

"So why have they not tried killing you?" asked Tony, "you're like, the poster child for all things supernatural."

"Thanks Tony," said Johnny dryly, "but I'm actually in the same boat that they are," he explained, "We are both bounty hunters in the same respect. They hunt demons the same way I do and we send them back where they belong. So they leave me alone, I leave them alone. Until now."

He scrolled down on the flash drive's main screen and clicked on another folder, "this is Azazel. He's a demon." the room went deadly silent, "don't worry guys-he's dead. The brothers killed him. However, there's another demon that is plaguing the earth," a picture of a small girl flashed across the screen, "this is the most current host for Lilith, the demon. The body's name is Emily Halls."

"But she's a little girl!" scoffed Clint as he cleaned one of his arrows. Johnny gave him a sober look,

"this 'little girl' is even more powerful than Azazel ever was," he looked around at the Avengers, "she's the first human ever to have been turned into a demon by Lucifer himself. Do not be fooled by her looks."

"So where is she now?" asked Steve.

"Good question," remarked Blaze, "We know now that she is in London; but exactly where is a mystery. Her host's nanny says she had ran away from home. Which means Lilith had taken over her by then. We do know however, that she is about to, or has already, started slaughtering millions of innocent people so that she can manipulate their souls to attack Sam and Dean Winchester, release Lucifer from bondage, and potentially start the beginning of the Apocalypse."

**London, England; flat 221B to be exact…**

"Mr. Holmes," said a police officer from the Scotland Yard, "I assure you, if we didn't need your help, we would never have come to you in the first place."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he still lied on the couch with his hands behind his head, refusing to speak. John sighed.

"So what is it that you need his help in?" asked John.

"Isn't it obvious, dear Watson?" interrupted Sherlock as he sat up and walked over to the window, looking down at the street below, "He's come to ask us if we can help with the recent string of murders that have been plaguing the city of London for the past three days."

"Yes," confirmed the officer, "exactly. It's been three days, and the body count is already up to twelve-"

"So four each day?" interrupted Watson, "How where the bodies found?"

"According to my research," replied Sherlock, "each person was found in an alleyway, face-down, their knees bent; with a singular stab wound in the middle of the spinal chord, and a gunshot to the back of the head" he paused, "the stab would come first, then the perpetrator would shoot the victim to make sure they were dead. Victims also were found to vary in age-the youngest twenty-four and the oldest seventy-two, and gender."

"so," said the officer tiredly, "is it the same person or not?"

Sherlock was quiet for a moment, "Yes," he said, "but I believe it's a team effort."

"I beg your pardon?" asked the officer, "A team effort?"

"Yes," said Holmes, "think about it. People usually don't use the alleyways, so what in the world would make any sane person be attracted to a dark alleyway? Let alone, crouch down?"

The officer was quiet, "monetary substance?"

"No." said Sherlock, obviously annoyed by such an elementary answer, "Watson?"

John's face drained a few shades, "No Sherlock-surely not…"

"Yes Watson. Say it." demanded the curly haired man with a slight grin on his face. He loved how Watson always caught onto him so quickly.

"I'm confused now," remarked the officer.

"Remember the case of Emily Halls?" asked Watson. The officer nodded, "well," he explained, "She's probably, at this moment, being held captive by our killer to lure unsuspecting citizens as bait."

"That's absolutely horrendous!" exclaimed the officer as he grabbed his walkie-talkie and started speaking into it,

"All officers, I repeat, all officers, first priority is now to find Emily Halls, the girl that went missing three days ago, again, first priority: find Emily Halls."

Later on that night while Sherlock slept, John rolled out of bed, took out his cell phone, and left the room. After a few rings, he finally contacted her.

"You've got some nerve calling me at such a late hour," snarled a voice on the other line, "but since I'm aware of your reason, I won't eat you."

"thank you Madame Vastra," replied Watson graciously in a hushed tone, "I know you're probably busy, but I must ask: will you help?"

The line was quiet. Finally, she spoke, "Yes, for an old friend, I will help. Leave it to me to find Emily Halls' kidnapper. I will also contact him for guidance-seeing that he does not know where Oswald is."

"Pardon?" asked Watson, but the woman hung up.

**Somewhere in the outer atmosphere of the Earth…**

_Rory… _The man in the blue box clenched his fist, _Amy…_ his nails dug into his skin, _now you. Clara Oswald._ He had never meant to lose her. There were still so many questions that bombarded his mind,

Was it really her? Oswin Oswald-Clara Oswald-soufflé girl? How? How could she have appeared in his life twice already? If twice, then perhaps, a third was inevitable? The brunette bit his lip as he switched on a machine to scan the Earth once more and patted the side of the TARDIS's control panel.

"Come on ol' girl," said the Doctor encouragingly, "you can do it. Help me find her."

he watched as the scan started to commence. He jumped at the sound of the phone ringing and quickly picked it up. He listened intently, and with a smile on his face, he hung up. "ah Vastra, you've done it again." he said. After the scan confirmed Vastra's story, he couldn't help himself.

"I've found you now, impossible girl!" he sang as he typed in the location and time he wanted to go.

London, England, 2013.

He danced around the control panel before pulling down a lever that would start the TARDIS's journey to his desired destination.

This time, he would not let her down.

**A.N: Wellll, how do you like it? This will be my first crossover ever, so please don't hold back with the reviews-I need all the feedback I can get. Thanks so much and hope you look forward to chapter 2!**


	2. Chapter 2

Crossing Boundaries

By Texmex007

**A.N: Okay, so I'm just warning you that there is a minor language problem from our beloved Director Fury. We all know that if he could've talked more, The Avengers would've been rated 'R' for Language LOL. But seriously, I do not own Supernatural, Sherlock, Avengers, or . Enjoy 3 **

**A Couple of weeks later; New York, Driving down Joe DiMaggio Highway in a Black Impala…**

"How much further till we hit Manhattan?" yawned Sam as he slowly stretched, somewhat disappointed from waking up from his nap so early.

"Approximately 2.6 miles," replied a voice from the backseat. Sam jumped as he heard the answer, but quickly relaxed once he realized who it was. Dean continued driving as he thought about the man in their backseat.

Castiel.

_The angel that pulled me out of Hell _He thought, as he involuntarily glanced at his right arm, knowing that underneath the cool leather jacket was a bright red shadow of a hand-a searing reminder of what he went through, and that it was indeed real.

"Cas," laughed Dean, looking through the rearview mirror, "You really shouldn't pop up out of nowhere like that; you're bound to give one of us a friggin heart attack."

"But you called me," answered the angel, his blue eyes sparkling curiously. Sam shot Dean a look.

"What?" hissed Dean at his brother, "It's not like you were proving to be any company!"

Sam just smiled-over the past couple of weeks since they met Castiel, he could see a major change in Dean's attitude. He was still a jerk, but when the angel was around Dean seemed more...sympathetic? More willing to listen? He really seemed to enjoy the angel's company. As he thought more about it, Dean reached over and slapped him on the back of the head.

"OW" exclaimed Sam, "What was that for?"  
"I was talking to you!" replied Dean, "You're going all Space camp on me!"

Sam rolled his eyes as he looked out the window, this time listening to Dean about having to go and meet that Blaze guy they met a while back.

As he rubbed the back of his head, he couldn't help but think,

_Maybe it's my imagination._

**London, England; Flat 221 B…**

John arose from his bed the begrudgingly, having spent the majority of last night conversing with Madame Vastra about the most recent sightings of the girl, Emily Halls. As he walked into the living room he immediately felt Sherlock's analytical stare over the morning newspaper. He decided not to say anything and instead walked into the kitchen, where he made himself some tea. After he was done, he padded back across the floor into the livingroom, where he sat next to his flat mate and sipped on the hot tea.

"Goodmorning-" started John, but he was quickly interrupted.

"11:00 p.m," said Sherlock, "You went to bed late."

"How can you tell?" asked John before answering his own question, "Ah. My eyes, right?"

Sherlock nodded. His John was catching on.

_Wait-my John?_

"Well?" demanded the dark haired man, his light greenish-blue eyes narrowed defensively, "What's her name?"

John stared wide eyed at him, "Jaimee," he lied. He hated lying to Sherlock about anything, but Madame Vastra was a dangerous woman-more dangerous than that Adler woman had been.

John watched as Sherlock's demeanor started to darken, "So when did you start seeing this woman?" he asked as he continued to read the papers.

John shook his head, "We aren't 'seeing' each other Sherlock," he answered with a smile on his face, "She's just an old buddy of mine."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly before he finally smiled at John, " it."

"Oh, by the way," said John as he scooted closer to the dark haired man, "I have received some news about Emily Halls-apparently she has been spotted with a man in his late 30's, wearing a suit and tie. Authorities haven't been able to I.D him though."

"John," said Sherlock as he stared at an article intensely, "hand me my phone."

"Where is it?" asked the dirty blonde after looking around the room, "I don't see it."

"It's in my pocket," replied Sherlock, "Get it now."

John stared at him.

"Are you bloody serious right now?" he asked, a thin blush spreading across his face.

"I'm dead serious," said the curly haired man as he analyzed the background of a simple photograph of a library, his eyes never leaving the inconspicuous blue box, the box he'd been so adamant on finding, the box with the face changing man, the box…

When he didn't feel John move on the plush couch, he continued.

"Get it now, John, I need it and I am not about to lose my spot for an instant!" he continued, a slight grin forming on his face, "right jean pocket."

John bit his lip as he reached over and slid his hand into the other man's jean pocket, pulling out the blasted phone and handing it to Sherlock.

"Here," spat John, defeated.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" asked Sherlock teasingly, although he _had_ felt an extra beat of his heart pound into his chest from John's touch. He dialed the journalist's number on the phone, his face stoic until he heard a voice on the other line,

"Hello?" answered a woman's voice, "This is Clara Oswald. May I ask who's speaking?"

**In the S.H.I.E.L.D Conference Room…**

10:00 A.M. It was time for the Avengers and Johnny Blaze to meet with the Winchester Brothers, who still haven't shown up. Agent Coulson sighed as Director Fury gave him the rollcall list.

"Miss Romanoff," sounded Coulson. The redhead nodded at him. He continued,

"Mr. Banner," Bruce pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose.

"St- uh, Captain Rogers," stuttered the Agent. The blonde solder smiled warmly at him. With a thin blush, he continued,

"Mr. Odinson," The huge god stopped slurping his red Koolaid and grinned, sporting a watery, red mustache. Coulson held back a chuckle and continued,

Mr. Blaze," the motorcyclist saluted him half-heartedly.

"Mr. Bart-"

"I'M HERE, I'M RIGHT HERE!" yelled Clint as he waved his upraised hand like a little school kid. The Agent rolled his eyes.

"Last and certainly least," said Coulson,

"Mr. Stark."

No answer.

"Mr. Stark?" repeated Coulson, obviously annoyed.

Still no answer.

Everyone looked over to the empty seat in between Clint and Steve.

"Where the HELL is that little cocksucker?" yelled Director Fury as he charged over to the seat, looking around the room.

"Must be in bed still," replied Natasha with a bored look on her face.

"WELL, SOMEONE NEEDS TO WAKE HIS ASS UP." Yelled the Director.

What happened next lasted about seven seconds.

"NOT IT!" shouted Clint, his eyes wild with glee.

"NOT IT EITHER!" yelled Thor, having recently learned this new and exciting Misgardian game.

"NOT IT!" exclaimed Johnny, although he knew even if he never said anything, he wouldn't do whatever they where thinking anyway.

The color in Steve's face drained a couple of pints of red. He looked to Natasha, who rolled her eyes,

"It's beneath me."

"Clint," said Steve, "you woke him up last time. Why don't you just do it again?"

"Yeah, I woke him up," snorted Clint, "and then I got my leg nearly broken. I'm not making that mistake again."

Natasha giggled inwardly as she flashed back to three days Clint hobbled around on crutches. It was priceless.

"What about you Bruce?" asked Steve weakly.

"Based on what happened to Clint," replied Bruce-his eyebrow raised slightly, "You really want to wake up the Other Guy?"

He then looked to Johnny, who scoffed and replied, "I don't even know the Jerk."

Steve looked to Agent Coulson and Director Fury lastly.

"I'm the motherfucking Director," answered Fury. Coulson shook his head,

"It's obvious Mr. Stark likes you more than all of us."

There was a murmur of agreements amongst the rest of the Avengers.

Steve swallowed the anxiety building up in his throat and stood up.

"Be back in fifteen minutes," Commanded Fury, "If you're not back by then, I'll send in reinforcements."

The Director then looked at the other Avengers, "That means you clowns."

Steve nodded and hurried to the billionaires room, not sure how he was going to succeed with his mission without receiving some sort of unwanted collateral damage. He knocked on the door with no answer and after a moment opened the door.

He looked over to see Tony still in bed, the comforters of the California King sized bed draped over his head. Steve stood beside him, looming over and whispering.

"Tony."

No answer.

"Tony, It's Steve."

Still no answer.

"Tony, you need to get up. You need to attend the meeting with us." Steve reached out and shook Tony's shoulder lightly. Tony flipped over under the covers towards the super soldier, but did not reveal Tony's face. Steve reached over again, this time placing his knee on the bed to get a better reach.

Suddenly, Tony's hand shot out and grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him under the covers with him. Steve, dazed, stared at the blue light emitting through Tony's black wife beater, a sure sign to him that the Arc Reactor was still working.

"So they sent me breakfast in bed," said the brunette, licking his lips, "I knew there was a reason why I didn't hate them so much."

"Tony," said Steve, a thick blush spreading across his face and settling on the tips of his ears, "stop joking around. You're late for our meeting."

Tony looked hurt, "I'm not joking-I'll eat you right here. Right now-If you'd like."

Steve tried getting up but was soon held back down, "I'm not edible Tony-"

"I'd beg to differ," replied the playboy. He leaned down and kissed the blonde passionately, hoping to catch the soldier off guard.

He did.

When they finally pulled away, Tony grinned at Steve's raging blush and angry, emotional baby blues, who were now shyly darting away from the brunette.

"Well?" asked Tony, "you're not going to ask me how you taste?"

Steve rolled his eyes and asked sarcastically, "How do I taste Tony?"

"Like all American apple pie," replied Tony softly. The two looked into each other's eyes for a moment, before Steve jolted upright and grabbed Tony, pulling him off the bed,

"Director gave me fifteen minutes to get you back to the meeting room," Steve set Tony down in front of his closet, "so get dressed. We'll be meeting the Winchester brothers today."

Tony pouted, his soft brown eyes pleading Steve to stay. Steve sighed before kissing Tony chastely on the lips and heading out the door.

They appeared at the head of the conference table three minutes later, much to the relief of the other Avengers. Clint narrowed his eyes at Steve as he realized that Steve was uninjured.

"How are you not limping?" he demanded as Steve sat down in his chair. Before he could answer, Tony sat in his chair between them and glared at the archer.

"It seems that you're forgetting how you woke me," answered the brunette, his eyes dark and his tone obviously annoyed.

"I simply woke you up-"

"WRONG," interrupted Tony, "you threw a bucket of water, COLD water, over me as I slept. You didn't try to wake me up with words, or even a pat on the shoulder. You woke me up with COLD WATER."

"GIRLS," shouted Natasha as she watched three men enter the conference room, "could you please carry on your little bitch fight later? We've got company."

The two men stopped arguing, Clint crossing his arms sulkingly and Tony resting an arm around the back of Steve's chair.

Director Fury walked over to the three men,

"Director Fury," addressed the taller brother, wearing a leather jacket and sporting short dark hair. He shook the Director's hand.

"Dean Winchester," answered the Director, who then addressed the shorter brother with longer light brown hair, "and you must be Sam."

Sam nodded as he shook the man's hand, wondering slightly how the guy got an eye patch. He decided he wouldn't ask.

"Who is this?" asked the Director, referring to the blue eyed man in the dirty brown trench coat.

"He's with me," answered Dean, before adding quickly, "us."

Director Fury signaled them to sit down with them at the table, and they did, taking a seat next to Johnny, who gave them both a quick embrace.

"Well," said the Director pointing to each of the Avengers as he spoke to the brothers, "This is the Avengers. There's Clint, Bruce, Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Thor-"

The two brothers jerked up in surprise as they looked at the long haired blonde.

"Thor as in.." said Dean,

"The god of Thunder?" finished Sam. Thor looked at them questioningly.

The third man who arrived with the brothers put a soft hand on Dean's shoulder, "Dean, do not fear. He will not be of importance to eradicate, I assure you."

Dean turned his head to look at his angel

(since when had he been calling Castiel _his_ angel? He couldn't be sure)

with a wary look, but trusting nonetheless. He nodded at his brother Sam who also relaxed.

"What was that?" asked Steve, standing up and staring at the blue eyed man, "Who are you?"

The angel turned to Steve and smiled, "My name is Castiel, and I'm afraid the question you are asking is incorrect- I'm not a 'who', I'm a 'what'."

Steve's own blue eyes glittered in confusion, "Okay," he said, "what are you?"

"Castiel's an Angel," answered Dean a little defensively, "Ok? No big deal."

Castiel turned his head to Johnny, who'd been quiet since Castiel had entered the room.

"Hello Johnny," greeted the angel warmly. After a moment of looking into Johnny's eyes, he continued with a shocked smile on his face, "Hello Zarathos. Wow, it's been a long time since I've last seen you-what was it-21 millennia ago?"

Johnny felt his insides lurch as if Zarathos was actually speaking back to the Angel. It felt entirely unpleasant.

"Well, It's nice to finally meet you two," continued Fury as he signaled Coulson to plug in a flash drive into the computer. A huge picture of a downtown city flashed across the screen.

"Where is this?" asked Clint. Before Fury could answer, Steve's mouth opened.

"That's London," said Steve, "I can tell because that's the Eye, the largest Ferris Wheel in the world."

"Correct Rogers," said Fury, "and that is exactly where we are going. The demon Lillith has been spotted in London, with a man, whom we've done some research on."

The Director paused for a moment as he read the name,

"His name is Jim. Jim Moriarty."

**Somewhere on the streets of London…**

The Doctor popped his head out of the TARDIS with a smile on his face-he hadn't been back in London for months. Or was it years? He couldn't remember.

_Wibbly wobbly timey whimy._

He stepped outside, promptly shutting the door and straitened his bowtie.

_Bow ties are cool._

He strutted down the busy sidewalk, trying to remember the address correctly, hoping that she would be there.

_Clara. Dear Clara Oswald. __Oswin. Soufflé girl._

He knew he owed Madame Vastra big time, and he was sure that the Silurian would figure something for him to do before he left-hopefully with Clara.

As he ringed the doorbell to the woman's flat, the anticipation in his manifested itself in the fast pace of one of his hearts, or was it both? He couldn't be too sure.

He watched as the door swung open with a smile on his face as he watched Clara look up at him.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Clara, it's me!" he said, "The Doctor!" after watching Clara's face and seeing that she was not understanding, he added, "You know, the time traveler? We went to old Victoria London?"

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before attempting to slam the door in his face. He reached out and held it open, "Clara, it's me." He said earnestly.

_Remember me…I'm the man in the box, the man whom you said, "Run clever boy, and remember?" I remember you…Remember me!_

He reached out and touched her forearm, sending his thoughts and memories to his beloved friend. He had lost her twice. He wasn't going to lose her again when she was so close this time.

Something in her eyes clicked as she received his memories-_her _memories.

"OH dear," she exclaimed, hugging the man in front of her and stepping aside, "Come in, do come in."_  
_ When the Doctor stepped inside the room he noticed two other men already there; a tall, curly dark haired man with piercing green eyes and a smaller, straighter dirty blonde haired man with soft hazel brown eyes. He looked at the dirty blonde with a smile.

"Gentlemen, this is my friend, um," announced Clara, looking to her friend uneasily about his name.

"I'm the Doctor!" he exclaimed with a grin on his face. He reached over and shook hands with the two men.

"Sherlock Holmes," said Sherlock, his eyes betraying the intrigue that he was expierencing.

_The Doctor. Big blue box. Bow ties, an obviously uncool accessory and suspenders, suggesting old age, yet he's young…._

"John Watson," said John, interrupting Holmes' thoughts, with a smile on his face.

_So this is 'He'…_

"Jumpers are cool," said the Doctor enthusiastically as he noticed John's beige jumper, "very cool. I believe I've heard of you before."

John couldn't hide the shock from his face, "From Madame…Madame Vastra?"

"Yes, she's told me quite a lot about you and your partner over there," answered the Doctor, his eyes gleaming with happiness. He had done it. He had found Clara.

Sherlock shot a look at John, a look saying _you lied to me this morning._

_Things are going to be 'fun' when we get back…_ thought John, swallowing hard.

"Gentlemen, if you are done questioning me about Emily," said Clara, "I think I'll have to catch up with my good friend. We haven't seen each other in a long time."

"Of course," said Sherlock. He thanked her again, but leaving he looked once more at the charismatic man with the bowtie. He had found him;The man who can change his appearance. The man who travels in a big blue phone booth and changes faces. Well done.

**Okay…so all that's left is for the Doctor, Clara, the consulting detective and his partner to meet the others-the Avengers and Winchesters. This has been fun for me-I'll try to have updates every other Thursday or so. I'm starting College soon-so it'll be difficult. I know-you don't care **** lol ok, till next time, please review and give me ideas if you wouldn't mind! Thanks~3**


	3. Chapter 3

Crossing Boundaries

By Texmex007

**A/N: oookay, so it's been a while-sorry about that. I've started College, survived my first week lol and now I'm going to try very hard to continue spitting out chapters about this amazing Superwholockingers story **** Ok, without further ado…**

**Morning, London, England. Baker Street, Flat 221B…**

"John."

John turned his back to the voice that was lulling him out of his precious sleep.

"John."

He made a mental note to get a lock for his door.

"Mhmmhm." Replied John, opening his eyes slightly, the blurry image of Sherlock hovering inches away from his face. He smiled slightly.

"John are you awake now-don't answer that. You obviously are." Breathed Sherlock, his breath tickling John's ear. With a smirk, he slowly pressed his lips against the army doctor's cheek.

That woke him up.

"I'M NOT GAY!" he shouted, although by the time he quit hyperventilating. He stole a glance at his flatmate's shocked face. After a moment of silence, he looked down at his hands and added ever so quietly, "Sherlock, you remember that time you told me you didn't have any friends..?"

Sherlock sat down next to John on the bed and nodded, adding, "just one."

"Well, I guess it's the same way-" explained John, "I'm not gay. But I am for you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, trying not to blush (and failing at it miserably much to John's delight). He kissed John again, this time more passionate, and got up, calling out from behind his shoulder,

"Well, get to it John, we are meeting some very important people today who need our help tracking down that missing girl."

"Who are we meeting, exactly?" inquired John.

"Americans."

The helicarrier sped through the sky, London bound. The Avengers settled into the complimentary couches and sofas-already having been through the experience before. As Steve settled next to his favorite coffee fueled mechanic, he smiled at the Winchester brothers and their obvious excitement as Agent Coulson explained how the helicarrier's surface was covered in light refracting material, allowing it to be invisible to the naked eye.

"Dude," said Dean as he poked his younger brother in the ribs, "what I would give to have that kind of paint job for the Impala."

Sam rolled his eyes with a grin on his face, "your virginity?"

"Nah," said Dean, watching Castiel's blush grow wider, "I lost that a _long _time ago."

"I like the vehicle the way it is," interrupted Castiel, trying to swerve the topic away from such a touchy subject. He smiled at Dean. The older Winchester brother had to turn his head away in order to hide his blush from the sincere angel.

"Thanks Cas."

"So," said Tony, snuggling against the blonde soldier occupying his left side, "the Eye, huh?"

"Yeah," answered Steve sheepishly.

"You ever ridden it?" asked Tony.

"No-" said Steve, feeling a twinge of regret, "I wish I have."

Tony smiled at this. Leaning in, he whispered, "Well, why don't we ride it together when we get there-just you and me."

"Really?" asked Steve, his whole countenance brightening at the idea, "you would want to go ride it with me?"

"Of course," smiled the billionaire.

"Ok.." said Steve.

Over by the window, Bruce settled himself in a chair and was currently enjoying a moment of relaxation when a pair of hands blocked his vision. He tried not to grin as he heard a voice ask rather enthusiastically,

"Guess who!"

"Hmm.." said Bruce, feigning thought, "is it Thor?" he purposely guessed incorrectly.

"No~" sang the voice.

"How about Director Fury?" asked Bruce. The Director shot his head up at the sound of his name only to smirk at the couple.

"Nope!" chuckled the voice, "do you give up?"

"No," replied Bruce, "I think I got it-is it…" he grabbed the hands and turned around in his chair, grinning at the man with his hands in his,

"Clint!" he laughed. Clint blushed slightly as he stared down at their hands, "Darn," said Clint, "you got me." After a moment of looking into each other's eyes, he added softly, "literally."

Bruce let go slowly and turned back to his book, relaxing as the archer's hands roamed through the back of his curly hair.

Thor frowned as he ate the last of his rainbow Goldfish, wishing that somehow he could reach into the container and be able to pull out more. He shot a pleading look at Natasha, but only got a dirty look from the agent. Before he could ask Agent Coulson about getting another box, the Director spoke,

"Ok kids, it's almost time to exit the joyride."

Everyone got ready to leave and as soon as the helicarrier landed, tumbling out into the chilly London air.

Steve was the first to walk outside, and much to his surprise, he was greeted by a tall, curly haired man and a shorter strait haired man.

" ," greeted Director Fury from behind Steve, "and ."

The dark haired man shook the Director's hand with a slightly bored look on his face, "please, call me Sherlock."

Steve shook the hand of the shorter , "Hello," said Steve, noticing the military air that the shorter man carried, "I'm Captain Steve Rogers."

The man stiffened greatly at the sound of the blonde's name.

_The Captain Steve Rogers…As in…_

"I'm Captain John Watson," replied the shorter Englishman, adding, "You're not _the _Captain America, are you..?"

Steve blushed greatly at his recognition, "the one and only." He said sheepishly.

Sherlock stole a glance at the soldier,

_Steve Rogers; plaid t-shirt (blue matching his eyes. Deliberate?)Tucked in, tan kakis, black belt buckle, brown loafers…definitely an older style (like the Doctor)1940's style. Modest, well groomed, over-all kind soul. However, eyes show years of torment-due to combat like John…_

John automatically saluted Steve, who returned the gesture. A warm hand slid around Steve's waist as he let his own hand fall back down to his side.

"Hey there," said Tony, "I'm Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Nice to meet you."

Steve wiggled uncomfortably out of Tony's embrace as subtly as possible-too bad he didn't know Sherlock. With a slight smile, Sherlock analyzed Tony as well.

_Anthony-Tony Stark. Smart ass. Arrogant. Sloppy yet somewhat stylish. Caffeine drinker-probably coffee. Stark. Stark Interprise. Mechanical Genius…Circles under eyes indicating he doesn't sleep much and relies on the beverage. Still a smart ass. Obviously not afraid to show affection to Steve-couple. Wish I could be that brave with John. They attract each other, yet they're so different…_

A slight nudge from John's elbow brought Sherlock back to reality.

"Oh yes," said Director Fury as the rest of the Avengers and the Winchesters filed in behind them, "and we will be needing to talk to you about the missing girl, Emily Halls. We need to discuss some things with you."

He couldn't believe his eyes.

How long has it been-sixty-eight years? Sine he had last seen the blonde soldier? His hearts raced as he thought of the last time they had met-how determined the scrawny boy had been to join the Army…

"Doctor?" asked Clara, sticking her head back out of the TARDIS, "Are we leaving or what?"

With a smile on his face he replied,

"What."

**Ok-so that's the latest chapter! Ok, hope you liked it!**


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